


White lies on Thursday nights

by 700wordsAmonth



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, One Shot, Second Person Narrator, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 00:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14320818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/700wordsAmonth/pseuds/700wordsAmonth
Summary: Nicole lies about her whereabouts every Thursday night, but you trust her, so it's okay. Until it isn't.





	White lies on Thursday nights

You understand that the Sheriff Department isn't exactly overflowing with money, but did Nedley really have to put Nicole on every single Thursday evening shift for the foreseeable future? Weren't cop shops supposed to work on a weekly schedule, anyway? Not that that is any better. Weeks when Nicole got the night shift were the worst, but this was weird: every Thursday Nicole would work from 8 am to 9 pm. Nedley was overworking your fiancée.

And you miss her, which is crazy because you live together (at the homestead, for safety reasons) and you saw Nicole just this afternoon and Nicole slept in your bed last night and every night before that, going back 3 months. But you're in a cuddly mood. You would like it very much if Nedley were to give you your fiancée back.

You decide not to wait: you stop by the coffee shop and buy two hot chocolates. Nicole might be stuck at the station for two more hours, but you're sure she won't mind if you show up to make her company.

 

You enter the station with a little skip in your step, but it's Lonnie who's sitting on the desk that usually belongs to your girl. You look around to check that Nicole isn't in the room before you approach him.

“Hey Lonnie, Nicole out on patrol?”

He frowns at you, clearly confused. “No. She's not on tonight, her shift ended a couple hours ago.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ “Something probably got lost in translation, then. Thanks, Lonnie.”

You walk away with the two cups of hot chocolate still full and balance one of top of the other so you can reach for your phone. You call her on your way back to the car, but Nicole doesn't pick up.

You barely notice the town passing by your window as you wonder if Nicole had really lied to you or if you hadn't paid attention to something Nicole might have said in the morning or the night before. You do get distracted sometimes.

 

 

Nicole calls back when you're parking in front of the homestead, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you brush your thumb on the screen to answer the phone.

“Nicole?”

“Hey, baby, what's up?”

“Hey. I was just wondering where you were.”

Nicole's voice sounds a bit squeaky when she answers, “I have a longer shift on Thursdays, remember?”

A weight settles on your chest.

“Yea, of course. What was I thinking?” You play along.

“I should be home in half an hour, okay?”

“Yea, of course. I... I'll be waiting.”

“Okay, be there in a bit. Love you!”

“I love you too.”

You end the call and force a swallow past the lump you feel in your throat.

Okay.

So Nicole is lying. But it doesn't have to be something bad, people lie for tons of reasons. Maybe Wynonna had asked her to do something in secret. And that would _definitely_ be bad because Wynonna wouldn't ask Nicole to keep something from you unless it was dangerous.

Maybe Nicole is making you a surprise. Except that your birthday was, like, three months ago. And a surprise proposal is out of the window, _you_ asked for her hand seven weeks ago. She said yes. The wedding is in the Spring.

The point is: you trust her. Whatever she's hiding, if it's important, she'll tell you sooner rather than later. And if it's some kind of surprise – well, you'd rather be surprised. _If curiosity doesn't kill you first._

 

 

Wynonna is lying on the couch when you come in, a huge pack of Ruffles between her thighs and Olivia Benson on the TV.

“Sup, baby girl. Wanna binge?”

You do love SVU, but you don't think your rationalization was efficient enough to let you focus on anything other than Nicole's little secret.

“Not today. I have a bit of a headache, I'll just turn in early.”

“Okay. You know where the Aspirin is.” Wynonna says without taking her eyes from the screen.

“Sure do.”

 

You brush your teeth and braid your hair and decide to just slip out of your jeans and bra without taking your shirt off, you're going sleep in what you're already wearing.

You try to do some reading while you wait for Nicole to get home, but, as predicted, you can't focus. Luckily you can hear the deep hum of her car engine a few minutes later, your heartbeat taking up speed as you rehearse what you're going to say, going back and forth between saying outright that you know she wasn't at the station or just playing along.

 _You trust her._ You tell yourself over and over.  _Just give her some space._

 

You lower the book onto your lap when Nicole enters the bedroom.

“Hey, baby!” She says with a huge smile on her lips. It makes you sigh in relief. _Of_ _course_  you trust her.

“Hey, how was your shift?”

“It was alright.”

“No dangerous calls?” You ask, fishing for a clue. You trust her, but that doesn't mean your curiosity deserted you.

Her lips settle into an easy smile. “Nope. Just boring paperwork.”

“Rare for a Thursday night, isn't it?” You try again, but Nicole avoids your eyes.

“I guess it is.”

“Hm.” Yea, she can have her secret for a while.

 

* * *

 

Nicole gets home late again the following Thursday. You tried to check her whereabouts without tipping her or Lonnie or the sheriff that that's what you were doing. You find excuses to walk into the station and see that she's not there and you call her asking if she's still at work and _could you stop by the market or are you already on your way?_

Nicole's lying, she's probably been lying since this Thursday night shift thing began. It makes you anxious and distracted and it's why you're startled when Nicole's arms circle your waist and she presses herself against your back.

“Jesus!”

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.”

You put the cup of tea you were halfway through in the sink and cover Nicole's hands with your own. Nicole follows the curve from your shoulder to your earlobe with the tip of her nose and places a kiss on your jaw. “Baby...,” you sigh.

“Yea?” She asks, bringing her hands and yours to rest on the kitchen counter and starting a slow grind against your ass. You're suddenly very aware of the nerve endings between your thighs.

You lean more of your weight on the counter and angle your ass up to provide more friction for her. “You know I love when you do that.”

“Do what?” Her voice is soft on your ear, appearing an innocence that is in direct contrast to what her hips are doing to you.

“ _That,”_ You huff impatiently, more turned on than you should be, considering she's just started. “When you take what you need.”

“Yea?” You can hear the smile in her voice. “How does it make you feel?”

“ _Nicole.”_ She's teasing you.

“Tell me.”

“ _Wet_.” You grunt as the image the two of you must be posing flashes in your mind's eye, making your muscles clench around thin air.

She moves harder into you and bites the muscle she'd traced less than a minute before. It makes your body go slack in her hands.

You don't wanna move from where you are.  _God_ , that's the last thing you wanna do, but the multiple scares you've had in similar situations make you take a deep breath and push your torso away from the counter.

“Let's move this to the bedroom. Wynonna might get home at any minute.”

You can hear the strain in Nicole's voice as she forces her hips to slow down. “When did you become the sensible one in this relationship?” Her arms encircle you again, her breaths short and heavy as she tries to calm herself down.

“I have always been sensible,” you say with a smile on your lips.

“Not about this,” she answers, humor and affection heavy in her voice.

 

* * *

 

For a few more weeks, Nicole comes home with the same determined, accomplished look every Thursday. You're curious, but it feels more like a surprise-secret than a secret-secret, so it doesn't worry you.

Until it does.

 

* * *

 

That Thursday you go wait for her on the front porch when you hear the familiar sound of tires coming down the road. Nicole parks the cruiser and walks up the stairs with her eyes timid, searching for you for a second and then lowering them to the ground again, her smile weak.

“Hey,” you reach for her left hand, “bad night?”

“No, no. It's nothing.” She walks past you.

“Doesn't look like nothing,” you say as you enter the homestead after her.

“I just- I got something wrong today. At work. I'm a little disappointed with myself.”

“Hey now, don't be too hard on my girl,” you say as you help her with her heavy coat. “She's my favorite person.”

“Yea?” She turns to you, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, her dimples making a shy appearance.

“Definitely.” You step closer to her, seeking the familiar connection. “Can I do anything?” You ask, placing kisses up her neck. “Distract you, perhaps?”

“I would _really_ like that.”

 

  

The next morning the sparkle is back in Nicole's eyes. You're relieved to see that whatever was weighing her down the night before doesn't come back to hover over her during the weekend. Monday and Tuesday come and Nicole's all smiles and sweet kisses and warm hands, and you figure that, whatever it was, it was a fluke. A bad day.

And then Thursday comes again.

 

* * *

 

Nicole arrives at the homestead with a forced smile. You can see she's struggling to act normal. She touches you as much as she usually does – arms around your waist, lips behind your ears, fingertips tracing the most sensitive parts of your wrists and forearms – but it's more like an afterthought. Like there's something else in her mind, keeping her touch from feeling natural. You burry yourself into her when you go to bed, hoping that your tight hold around her waist scares away the cloud that seems to be visiting her every Thursday night lately.

 

* * *

 

If you were engaged to anyone else, you'd be worried about weekly disappearances and lies about whereabouts. But this is Nicole. Which means that, at first, you'd been curious about what she'd been doing. You were concerned for maybe 5 minutes until you realized that, if it were anything dangerous, Wynonna and Dolls would be involved in this too. So, yea, up until now, you've been curious and nothing more. But this is the third time in three weeks that Nicole has gotten home a little smaller than her usual confident self. A clear hurt behind her eyes.

 

 

You struggle in the following week. You want to talk to her, tell her that you know there's something going on, but you don't want her to defflect and just... get better at faking. So you wait. You wait and kiss her and make love to her, slower and even deeper than usual, so she knows that you love her. So she smiles her unburdenned smile at you again. And she does. She smiles beautifully at you Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday. And Thursday morning she makes love to you like you've been doing to her this past week. She goes to work and leaves you sweaty and wet and satisfied and wanting more at the same time.

But when the night comes, she walks into the homestead with dull eyes, though there is a clear misty shine in them. And you've had enough. You've had enough of wondering and you've had enough of whatever it is that is hurting Nicole.

You let her shower and eat and prepare herself for bed, and then you sit her down and rub her shoulders and braid her hair. Sometimes the right question at the wrong time can cause more damage and do no good at all. So you take some of the tension off of her before you start asking for answers.

You tie the end of her braid and lean down to kiss her neck, wrapping your arms around her and feeling her settle against you.

 

“Baby?”

“Yea?”

“I know that you don't have a double shift every Thursday.” You tried to soften your voice, but Nicole's whole body still goes rigid in your embrace.

“It's okay,” you start rubbing her shoulders again. “It's not... this is not a fight.”

“It's not?” Nicole half turns to you.

“No, baby. I just... You're upset.” You say adjusting yourself and craddle her left cheek with your right hand. “You're upset every Thursday.”

“It's nothing bad, I promise.”

“I know, Nicole. I mean, when I first found out that you weren't at work, I was a little worried. But it's you.” You can't help but let your thumb trace down her cheekbone, the contour of her nose, her lips. “Whatever you're hiding-”

“I've been taking classes,” she interrupts you.

“ _O-kay_ ,” you say slowly, not really knowing what she would take classes on or why they would upset her or why they'd even be a secret.

“ _God_ , this is so stupid,” she says, taking her eyes from yours, color rising to her cheeks.

“It's upsetting you, It's not stupid.”

Nicole chuckles. “It really is, you're going to laugh when you hear it.”

Her tone and words make you frown. “I doubt I'm going to laugh at something that has you like this. Even if it isn't serious, okay? It's hurting you. I want to know what it is and stop it.”

She breathes in and stands from the bed, taking a couple steps before turning to you again.

“They're dance classes.”

 _Okay._ “For the wedding?”

“Yea, but also... My future wife is a great dancer.”

_“Oh.”_

She rushes to sit by you again. “I mean, I know I'll never dance like you, but I thought... I thought I could learn enough of those ballroom dances to dance with you at events or in our kitchen.”

Your heart beats strong and hurts a little bit and you just want to hold her and never, ever let go. _“Baby-”_

“And I know that you can always dance with someone who's good at it so you can go all out. But I kinda wanted to dance with you too.”

“ _Of course_ you're going to dance with me. You're my fiancé. You're going to be my _wife_.”

“But I suck at it, Waves.” She shrugs, looking dejected.

“Then I'll take the classes with you. We can figure out how to dance together.”

Her eyes are shining, but the smile on her lips is still heartbroken. “You already know how to dance, baby.”

“And now I'm going to learn how to dance _with you_. The old couples that we see dancing together in New Year's galas and whatnot are not good at it because they're great dancers, Nicole. They're good at it because they've been dancing together their whole lives. We can do that too.”

“You think so?” Her voice sounds so hopeful that you're sure your heart will crack out of the sweetness of it.

“I know so. Plus, I'm really excited about this. I can't believe I could have been dancing with you every week for three months. The missed opportunities!”

Nicole sighs, faking defeat. "At least I had a few weeks to look less like a mess on the dancefloor in front of you."

"Hey," you cradle her chin so her eyes are on yours again and let a sly smile take your lips. "Don't ever feel embarrassed with me. You already know I love the way you move."

 


End file.
